


Fuzzy Comforts

by oloros



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Post-Institute destruction, quiet moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28478853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oloros/pseuds/oloros
Summary: X6-88 finds solace in a familiar furry friend.
Relationships: X6-88 & Dogmeat
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Fuzzy Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> For jadeloverxd on Tumblr as part of a secret santa event!  
> In regards to The Synthetic Giant, this takes place before X6 finds Goodneighbor, obviously!

X6-88 had never liked dogs.

Not much, anyways. They often got in the way when it came to battles, preferring to stand in doorways as opposed to tackling the enemy. He’d seen super mutants, the big, green brutes, using them as food sources. It sat well enough with him; kept them out of the way and meant the mutants wouldn’t seek him out as their next meal.

He’d started seeing more of them after the fall of the Institute. More than he had seen during his previous guided trips through the desolate wasteland. They hung in packs and were mostly feral, skin fraying from their bones and nostrils exposed to the dry winds. When radiation storms rolled along the skies in ominous smogs they’d form clusters that patrolled the streets, searching for any weakened prey to snatch away.

There wasn’t a reason to desire the companionship they offered before. As a courser he was independent, steadfast and apathetic with a singular goal in the forefront of his mind. But after the Institute had been reduced to scattered debris in east Boston, he was a phantom wandering through limbo. He’d sought them out once before during a dark period. All they responded with were sharp teeth in his arm.

It affirmed what he’d been taught: they were all beasts, nothing more.

That was until he met a furry one while sheltering in an abandoned apartment. The roof was worn and sported a variety of holes, leaving the options to avoid acidic rain scarce. In his corner he had waited with a gun in hand, wondering how life had become so utterly _pathetic_ , when the floor began to tap and he was approached by a brown and black dog. It wasn’t like the ferals. No crazed eyes, no drooling jaws. Satellite dishes for ears, he thought of it.

“Hello, dog,” X6-88 said. He placed his gun on the ground beside him. “How did you find me?”

It tilted its head. Of course. It had no idea what he’d said to it. It was a dog. Delusion must’ve been finding him quicker than expected.

It padded closer to him, quick inhales of breath sounding as it sniffed him, and it was just close enough that he could tuck two fingers beneath a collar strung around its neck. It was a thick, worn leather and a tag jingled at its base. He flipped the pendant-shaped scrap upwards to see an engraving: ‘ _Dogmeat’._

He was sure he’d heard the name coming from the mouths of the green beasts more than once. This Dogmeat obviously didn’t associate with them seeing as it still had more than one limb attached.

The rain poured heavier and thunder rumbled deeply from the base of the clouds. Dogmeat didn’t startle, not visibly, though it crawled into X6’s little corner and sidled up against his hip, resting a slobbery jowl on his thigh. Past X6-88 would’ve shoved it off, probably shoved a bullet between its eyes for good measure. But the wind was howling far too loud and Dogmeat’s soft breathing was a more welcoming sound to focus on.

He ran his fingers along the base of its head. In response its thick tail thumped against the broken concrete. The more he pet the faster it went, until the dog had succumbed to the desire to slumber and fallen still. Still propped on his leg, still shedding fur onto his courser coat.

There were some old books the Institute kept. In the Bioscience quarters they hoarded them for training the mutts, stored away for later use. X6-88 had taken the time to peep into one, once, when he hadn’t been assigned a mission and the scientists had some to spare. It detailed a dog as a man’s best friend, a comfort unparalleled.

He hadn’t understood it then, and he didn’t fully understand it even in this moment. But an inkling simpered up to him as he curled his fingers through Dogmeat’s wiry fur, watched his chest rise and fall with each warm breath, and for the briefest moment he didn’t feel quite so hopeless in a world that wouldn’t accept him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
